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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24979999">hermitcraft oneshots/drabbles</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrophilio/pseuds/astrophilio'>astrophilio</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hermitcraft RPF</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>#bdocrevolution2020, 3am writing, Alternate Universe - Astronaut, Alternate Universe - Marching Band, Alternate Universe - Pacific Rim Fusion, Brotherly Love, DON'T SHIP REAL PEOPLE, Depression, How Do I Tag, IKEA, Insanity, Multi, Murder, Self-Doubt, cookouts are awesome, derpanano is basically pie, did someone ask for sick angst????, doc is nostalgic, everyone is gay fight me, evil xisuma needs a hug, game night chaos, just two guys being gay, may include cameos from the hermittpad community, minecraft personas ONLY, oh hey they’re dead now, probably curses at some point, tags added as time goes on, there you go you scarian cultists, when i say drabble i mean a oneshot i started but didn't finish, wow this has a lot of tags</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 01:41:10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,863</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24979999</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/astrophilio/pseuds/astrophilio</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>a bunch of oneshots and drabbles i create up in my head (half of these will probably not even be complete stories)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bdoc - Relationship, Charles | Grian/GoodTimesWithScar, Cubfan135/GoodTimesWithScar (Video Blogging RPF), Docm77/BdoubleO100, Etho/Daniel M. | VintageBeef, ImpulseSV/TangoTek/Zedaph, Team ZIT - Relationship, impulseSV &amp; Tango Tek &amp; Zedaph (Video Blogging RPF), scarian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>153</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. are you kidding me</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>in which grian and iskall make a questionable decision and xisuma finds out about it</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"What have I just walked in on?" Xisuma looked around the corner towards the practice room, a look of mild concern on his face. In the small hallway was a small group of people, gathered around the entrance to one of the practice rooms.</p>
<p>"That's a great question." One of the freshmen from front looked up from their sketchbook, sitting up against the wall.</p>
<p>"Could you answer it?"</p>
<p>"I would, but at this point in time I have no idea how to." They shrugged, apparently unphased by whatever was happening in the practice room. "The best I can describe it to you is that somehow Iskall managed to convince Grian to wear a bra."</p>
<p>"Oh, for the love of-- Iskall, where are you?"</p>
<p>One brown head popped out of the room, looking for whoever called their name. The moment Iskall saw Xisuma, however, his eyes widened and he leaned backwards, presumably telling Grian that one of the drum majors was over here, and that if they didn't want to get in trouble then things would not end well.</p>
<p>"Iskall, just come here please." Xisuma walked away from the drawing freshman and towards the room, edging his way through the couple of people walking away to find quite a scene.</p>
<p>Grian and Iskall were both facing away from the entrance, giggling and laughing. Iskall kept fumbling around with the clasps on the back of what was presumably a bra, evidently struggling to keep his hands steady in the middle of laughing. "Oh my god, dude. I wasn't actually expecting you to do it!"</p>
<p>"Neither was I, but I mean, I got ten bucks out of it--"</p>
<p>Xisuma coughed into his hand and the two people in front of him whipped around, crashing into one another before falling over with a thump and narrowly missing the drum set.</p>
<p>Once the two had gathered their bearings they looked up to find the drum major standing there with a raised eyebrow and a bemused smile on his face. "And I thought that maybe being seniors would knock some sense into you."</p>
<p>Grian waved at him, a bra still on his chest. "Hey, there Eks-eye-zoo-mah! Come to join the party?"</p>
<p>Iskall shot him a look and Grian just shrugged. "What? Didn't hurt to try."</p>
<p>"Dude, do you really think that he's going to--"</p>
<p>"For the record, I'm right here."</p>
<p>Iskall and Grian looked over and smiled sheepishly, looking very much like two children who got caught doing something they weren't supposed to.</p>
<p>"Just-- don't let the band directors see, okay? And please, keep in mind that..." X trailed off, seeing the two's awkward grins. "They already did, didn't they?"</p>
<p>"Maybe."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i do love writing actual experiences i've had into fanfiction</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. game of life</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>in which scar loses his sanity and bdubs catches him doing something not-so-legal</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Scar?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scar looked at Bdubs, a twisted smile on his face. “Yes, Bdubs?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What- what are you doing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What does it look like?” Scar wiped his bloody hand on his coat. “Having fun!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fun?! Ren is bleeding out behind you!” Bdubs moved to help the werewolf, but Scar’s eyes flashed silver and suddenly the builder wasn’t able to move. He struggled against invisible bonds, trapped in place.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, he’s not bleeding out. I made sure of that.” Scar turned around, looking at Ren’s limp body. “He’s already dead, aren’t you, Renny?” He kicked the mutilated corpse with his boot, frowning at the blood clumped in the sand. “Such a mess.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scar heard a choked sob and looked back to see Bdubs crying, tears streaming down his cheeks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’re you crying for, dear Bdubs? He’s just a person, not worth shedding tears over. Besides, what’s one hermit dead?” Scar shook his head, clicking his tongue as if he was disappointed in a child. “No one’s worth a broken heart, my friend.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re a- you’re a </span>
  <em>
    <span>psychopath</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Bdubs sobbed, his cheeks shining. “What’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>wrong </span>
  </em>
  <span>with you? Ren’s one of the nicest hermits here, and you just--”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Murdered him in cold blood? Stabbed him in the back? Deleted him from the world? It’s all a matter of perspective, dear Bdubs. What you call murder, I call a game.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i seriously have no motivation to finish this and it's good on it's own so here</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. on our way to ikea to summon swedish cthulhu</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>in which i write a crackfic involving scarian and swedish cthulhu</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>welcome to me throwing all grammar rules out the window</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“GUYS let’s go to ikea” grian screamed, falling down on scar without a care in the world</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean im a single person but okay,” scar said as one does after being crushed by their boyfriend.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And thus they went to the car and drove to ikea which for whatever reason was like 3 minutes away from their house raising the question of why the hell they didn’t just walk but you know what </span>
  <em>
    <span>it’s fine</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Scar pulled into the parking lot because i guess he’s the only one who can drive (ngl i think he’d crash at least 5 times but who cares) and grain fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>threw </span>
  </em>
  <span>himself out the car. The little shit was sprinting towards IKEA on maximum overdrive, scar just following him while having an existential crisis.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The moment the two gay children opened the doors to the swedish store they got lost. First thing. They grabbed a cart and went to the showroom and then they were lost.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Scar i think we’re lost,” groon said, sitting in the basket of the shopping cart.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Scar shrugged, grabbing a giant plush and placing it in the cart. “Same tho, do you wanna call Iskall?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, he’ll yell at us again.” grian said, hugging the giant panda that was sharing the basket with him. “Let’s just try to pronounce these ‘word’ things before we end up selling our souls to Xisuma or something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ok lol” Scar pointed at a random sign. “What do ya think that sounds like?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm doodsssstrafee” grain sounded out the word like the utter child he was. “What about that one?”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Scar rode the cart down the floor to the sign giran was pointing at. “What about teelwhore?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sounds accurate.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This went on for hours as the two sat in the middle of the empty store, again raising questions that this time were about </span>
  <em>
    <span>where the hell did everyone go</span>
  </em>
  <span> (the author can’t answer this question, she’s raising her own questions about the sanity of the hermittpad server).</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Consigned to oblivion the two continued their way down the lines of Swedish magic pronouncing what they thought was a language. Until they reached the beds and then they just threw themselves on it and had a massive cuddlefest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Scar what do you think that is” grian said while being squeezed to death by a cowboy convex man.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Looks like cork ad to me”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And with that final mispronunciation a swirling blue and yellow portal opened, allowing Cthulhu’s Swedish cousin Swedish Cthulhu to enter into our world and make everything Swedish.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“hi Swedish Cthulhu,” Brian said as if this was normal. “Wanna join our cuddlefest?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“biatch NAH,” Swedish Cthulhu said in his bob ross-like manner. “I JUST WANTED SOME CREPES AND YALL DECIDED TO SUMMON ME, I MEAN WHO DOES THAT? SO YOU GET TO BECOME MY SWEDISH UNDERLINGS! HAHAHAHA!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>scar took this as a time to just fuckin naruto run the fuck outta that place, grabbing Grian and yeeting him in front of him. “CMON MAYBE WE CAN LOSE HIM IN THE WAREHOUSE”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“OK” crayon screamed back, somehow just flying above the ground because this is happening now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“FOOLS, THIS IS MY DOMAIN! I CAN NEVER GET LOST HERE!!!!” Swedish Cthulhu was following them sitting cross legged on a giant Swedish meatball. “Wait where’d they go?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Five minutes later score and groop were sitting in a playhouse in the showroom attempting to call iskall. After many desperate attempts and the sacrifice of several plushies, finally iskall picked up his phone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey iskallllllllllllllllllll” scoob and crayon said in sync.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What did you do this time”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think that you two are big ass liars now what did you do”</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>“...we got lost in ikea.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“...and summoned swedish cthulhu”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For fucks sakes guys.” there was the sound of distant caramelldansen and a scream and then magically iskall was crammed in the playhouse with his summoners. “Look i’m here now”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nice can you please get him out cause me and scar want to go reanact the lion king” grian said while sitting on the plastic roof like Spider-Man.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Depends.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would you do it for a Scooby snack?” Grian asked</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would you do it for </span>
  <em>
    <span>two </span>
  </em>
  <span>Scooby snacks?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Make them bags of Swedish fish and we have a deal”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And thus the blond twink and nervous wizard sent the Swedish cultist out to tame the wild beast known as Swedish Cthulhu.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Distant Swedish could be heard as iskall consoled Cthulhu’s Swedish cousin for the atrocities scar and Grian had committed against Swede-kind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally after far too many choruses of hermitgang and the loss of one too many succulents, society was saved from Swedish Cthulhu and everything was fine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How’d you do it?” Grian asked, sitting on scars shoulders like a five year old.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Easy, I gave him the most Swedish thing in existence. Swedish meatballs.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Scar and Grian gasped in awe at the sheer magic of what iskall had just said. “Oh my god it’s the secret of Sweden”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean sure if that’s what you want to call it” iskall shrugged, now holding two massive bags of Swedish fish. “Now go and do whatever gay things you guys do in your free time”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And w/ a flourish iskall disappeared in a puff of pink smoke</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Grain and Score ran to the warehouse and scaled the giant towers of boxes, almost breaking several bones but somehow surviving (despite the fact that they were falling from 30 feet in the air).</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After far too many recreations of the titanic and the lion king, the two lived in ikea for the rest of their gay lives.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The end.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. drifting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>in which i write doc as an astronaut</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Doc’s hand traced the photo’s frame, feeling the carved wood. Bdubs had made this for him when he’d left for Jacksonville, claiming that Doc would “need something to remember me by.” Floral patterns were etched into the glossy surface.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Inside the frame itself was a picture of both him and Bdubs smiling with their two kids. The youngest, Emmerich, sat on Docs shoulders, his sunburnt face covered in freckles. Bdubs and Eleanora stood next to them, with dark tanned skin from that summer. Their wild curls were all over the place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Behind them stood the Three Patriarchs in Zion National Park. The red peaks stood out against the blue sky, small specks of foliage dotting the cliffs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’d undertaken the hike after their friends, xB and Etho, had recommended it to them. After a good hour of hiking the steep trail, they’d finally reached the plateau giving view to the mountains.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That photo was one of Doc’s favorites, explaining why Bdubs had been so adamant that the German take it with him on the ‘trip’.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That’s what the two of them had dubbed it. The ‘trip’. The trip to Houston for three months of training. The trip to Jacksonville for the final launch. The trip to the stars in a rocket for space.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now he was in the stars, missing his family while stuck in a completely airtight capsule in the void.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite the fact that he’d been dealing with what seemed like endless engineering problems for the past ten hours, he couldn’t sleep. His mind was too active. He kept turning over and over again, trying to get the pressing anxiety of worrying about his family out of his head.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gave up eventually. Doc unstrapped the top of the sleeping bag, floating forward as he reached for the laptop velcroed to the opposite wall. The lid popped up, the display blinding. He squinted, waiting for his eyes to adjust.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As soon as he could see properly, Doc typed in the password and logged in, heading straight for the files stored on the device.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Plugging in the headphones strapped next to the computer, he pulled up a video. He’d received it a week ago from husband.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Doc pressed play.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“<em>Hi Babe!</em>” Bdubs was waving with one hand, the other holding a camera. “<em>Here’s your weekly update, as per usual!</em>” The man’s cheeks were rosy, his black hair pulled out of his face with his trademark bandana. “<em>We aren’t really doing anything right now. Stress swung by earlier this week with Cleo, the two of them dropped off some ice cream as a last day of school sort of thing. That’s nice. Oh! Nora dyed her hair, too!</em>” Bdubs blue eyes glanced over above the camera, looking as something. “<em>Speaking of which, it’s been too quiet. Now I gotta check.</em>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The footage jostled as Bdubs opened the back door into the sunlight, stepping onto the deck. The camera flipped and now Doc was looking at an empty backyard where presumably both their children had been.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“<em>What the— guys? Where are you?</em>” Bdubs walked down the steps of the platform rapidly, swinging the camera left and right before looking up at the roof of the house. “<em>Are you kidding me?! Guys!</em>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Emmerich and Nora were sitting on the roof of the house, grinning. Nora’s brown hair was pulled back in a ponytail, the ends dyed purple. Meanwhile, Emmerich’s pale skin was a fiery red, burnt to a crisp. “<em>Hi dad!</em>” Emmerich waved frantically at Bdubs. “<em>Are you recording something for Papa?</em>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“<em>Yes, I am! And you know what he doesn’t need to see? His kids on the roof!</em>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nora shrugged. “<em>Hey, there could be far worse things we could be doing.</em>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“<em>Nora said it was okay</em>,” Emmerich looked at his older sister, who was scowling at him now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“<em>Dude! We made a pact!</em>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bdubs sighed, turning back to selfie mode again. “<em>This is what I have to deal with while you’re gone.</em>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A few more assorted clips flashed by. The entire fifteen minutes was just an assortment of clips Bdubs sent him every week. An overview of everything that’d been happening since Doc left for the stars.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Doc closed the laptop and buckled up the sleeping bag again, looking out the small window in the cabin. Stars passed by, floating in empty nothingness as the station orbited Earth.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He focused on the empty static of the room, his brain filled with memories as his mind settled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually Doc fell asleep, his last coherent thoughts about Bdubs and Emmerich and Nora as he floated through the stars.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>#bdocrevolution2020</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. driving at twilight</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>in which i decide that society needs bdoc but roadtrip</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There was something comforting about driving down a highway at twilight. The sun setting in the distance, painting the sky in oranges and pinks as clouds drifted across the sky. Feeling cool air blowing in his face as he drove down an empty road surrounded by grasslands. Listening to music play softly through the radio as he has one hand on the wheel and the other entwined with his husbands. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Doc finds peace in these small moments. Amidst the chaos of moving across the country, he finds these moments the best.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bdubs is leaning backwards in his seat, watching out the window as they speed down the road. His brown hair is starting to fall out of his signature red bandana, and Doc can’t help but stare at the person next to him, wondering how he managed to marry such an amazing person.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bdubs turns to look at Doc and smiles softly. Doc feels his affection skyrocket, an answering smile on his face that he only hopes can show just how much he loves Bdubs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Eyes on the road, Pa,” Nora says from the back, noticing her parents’ lovestruck faces.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Doc and Bdubs start laughing, a blush forming on both of their faces. Doc diverts his attention back to the road. Bdubs squeezes Doc’s hand and Doc squeezes back, trying to send as much of the undying adoration of his amazing husband as possible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He thinks to himself that he could get used to this.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>a drabble that makes sense? what??<br/>this was actually really nice to write ngl</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. brother are you out there?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>in which ex is an angsty boi</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> April 2: </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Hey Xisuma. I don’t know why I’m writing this, but I guess it’s better than just doing nothing. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Mum went about three months ago. You haven’t sent anything to us. It’s probably safe to assume that you’re dead, or at least don’t want to see anyone from home. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> That’s understandable. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Xavier keeps preaching that the ‘Void’ will save us, that magic will help everyone get through. I don’t think it will. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> People keep getting sick. I don’t know if you remember him, but Xander, who lived next door? He’s the only one left. Both his parents are gone, plus his sisters. He’s with another family, right now. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Dad’s still being dad. Drinking, yelling. Nothing that isn’t normal, but I think he’s been drinking more since you left. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I think I’m going to end this here. I might keep writing these, but who knows. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Your brother, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Xanthus. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> April 5: </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hi Suma. Another note for you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em> Dad’s kind of working. He’s found a job at the plants, but he’ll probably end up being fired next week. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I might just take over working for us. Dad’s too much of a drunk to really do anything, and I’m old enough to work. Besides, hopefully they’ll be willing to cut me a little bit of slack, knowing I’m younger and have to deal with that wreck for a parent. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I’ll probably head out and look for jobs. Who knows, maybe they need help at the bakery. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> That’s really all that’s interesting. More people are getting sick, as per usual. Nothing outside the normal. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I guess I’ll just end this here. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Hope you’re safe, </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Xanthus </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> April 6: </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Good news and bad news. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Good news: i have a job. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Bad news: i’m in the mines. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Most of the places I went to said they didn’t need any extra hands. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I’m pretty sure they just don’t want to associate with anyone like me. Someone who’s dad is a drunk, whose mum died. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Oh well. It’s fine, I’ve got a job to help keep food on the table, especially since dad's going to be fired in a couple of days anyways. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> June 27: </em>
</p><p>
  <em> It’s been awhile, huh? It feels weird without you here, especially after so long. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I’m getting sick, I think. My sight is starting to go, and even right now looking at this screen is beginning to make my eyes hurt. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Dad’s dead, now. He died about three days ago. The funeral is in a few hours. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I know you probably don’t care, but it seemed like something that would be good to know. Knowing you, you’ve probably found yourself some other people to talk to, though. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> That’s good. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> July 3: </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I’m sick. I can hardly see anymore. Typing this is a pain. Half the time I’m sweating my skin off, other times I’m dreezing as if I’ve been locked in a frozen taiga for the past decade. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I’ll probably switch iver to boice memos sometime soon. I wouldn’t be surprised if there were already countless typos in here. Sorry dor that, I guess. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> More than hald of the the people here are dead. Some of those infected survived, somwhow. They’re blind, just like I’m ahout to go, but I guess neing alive is worth something, right? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Hopefully you’re doing better than the rest of us back home. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Though, honestlu, I think anything is better than being in the middle ofan epidemic. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “July 23.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’m on voice memos now, just like I said. It’s probably been several days since I last made a note. I can't read what I typed. I mean, I can’t really read anything at all, but… Anyways.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “The mine let me go about… a month or so? Give or take a little. Guess they don’t want a faulty worker.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “That’s all I am nowadays. Faulty.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “And on that depressing note, I think I’ll end this here.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “August 4.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “It’s been a little over a week since we talked. Or, I guess, since I recorded my voice on a hard drive you’ll probably never find…” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “There’s talk of an evacuation. People who are strong enough to go, or who haven’t been infected leaving for a new place, maybe even head to the Listeners and ask for help. They’re supposed to be leaving in two weeks or so. That’ll probably be when I toss this into the void, never to be seen again.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’ll try to keep a regular log going until then, but someone’s at the door. I guess, bye?” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> “August 7.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Prep’s started for evacuation. They’ll be leaving about four months of supplies for everyone staying back. After that, who knows what. I think the people leaving don’t really care, since they’ll be long gone.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “That worries me, a little bit. That they find it okay to leave a group of helpless people behind without a care in the world as to if they starve or not.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “I’m supposed to go with them, though. So I guess that’s a plus. No isolated islands for me, just leaving to find refuge elsewhere.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “That’s it, really. Nothing else of note.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Xisuma, I…” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Y’know what, nevermind. Talk to you later.” </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“August 17.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Tomorrow the Lorelay leaves. I’m finishing up packing the house, not that there’s much to pack. I’ve got a couple pairs of clothes on me and my armor.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Once we’re far enough from the island I’ll probably toss this overboard. Who knows, maybe that old legend is true. If it is, well, I guess hello? Goodbye? I don’t know, the point is you’ll have this now.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I need to end this now, they’re running last checks over everyone.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Bye Xisuma. I… hope you’re okay.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“August 18.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“They left. They left without me. I’m so stupid, of course they’d leave without me.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“That’s what everyone does, huh? Leave little old Xanthus behind. Not like anyone would care what happens to him.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“...I’m sorry, I’m just… frustrated, I guess.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I don’t know why I expected anything else, though.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“August 22.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“People keep dying. At this rate, only a few of us will be alive in the next month or so. That food’s probably gonna last us quite a bit longer than four months.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I have a feeling that I’ll end up alone either way.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“October… 30, I think.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I am now the only one left.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Everyone else is dead. A group of raiders came by, stole majority of our food and killed far too many people.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“The rest of them died of their injuries or the disease. I buried as many as I could.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“So I guess now begins the last few weeks or so until I die too.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Yay.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“November… god, what day is it?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I hate this. I hate being alone, I hate having nothing but my thoughts. I hate it.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“And I know I shouldn’t be complaining but that’s how I feel.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Not like I don’t deserve it, though.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I think it’s… sometime in November? I don’t know anymore. It’s kinda just… mixed together. The days, I mean.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Xisuma… why did you leave?”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I know mom dying hurt. I know that I was far from a perfect brother, and that dad sucked.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“But— I—“</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Xisuma, I needed you. We were supposed to be brothers, together through thick and thin.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“...I’m sorry. This entire— this entire rant is stupid and I shouldn’t have said anything.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“See ya, I guess.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Suma, I don’t blame you if you hate me. I don’t blame you if you don’t ever want to see my face ever again.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I feel the same way, honestly.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Why did I ever think that you’d care for me? No one ever cared for me. It was always you who got the attention. I was just… a background character.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Even when you left it was the same way. I was never special, never important.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I don’t blame you for leaving. It’s probably my fault that happened, too. My fault for being too clingy, for making you want to leave.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Suma… I’m sorry. I’m sorry I was a shit brother. I’m sorry I wasn’t good enough. I’m sorry I fucked with you. I’m sorry I held you back.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’m sorry.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“It’s Christmas, I think.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“First Christmas fully alone.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Food ran out two days ago.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I’ve been here by myself for almost two months now.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I think… this’ll probably be goodbye. For good.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Xisuma… I love you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I probably never said this enough in person, but I love you. Even though you left, even though you never cared about me, even though you probably hate me. I love you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Suma, the only thing I really want… is to see you again.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I don’t care if you’re scowling at me. I don’t care if you’re looking at me with disgust.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I just… want to see you. In person.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Xisuma, I hope you— FUCK!”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>…</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Audio recording ending in three. Two. One.</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>Audio recording has ended.</em>
  </b>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>don't mind me, just writing depressing things</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. cookouts</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>in which etho steals food from beefers</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Etho!” Beef called from the kitchen. “Can you come grab this real quick?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beef heard Doc and Bdubs laughing, probably at some snarky joke Etho had made. The back door was wide open, letting in the warm summer breeze. The smell of wood smoke filtered in, making the space feel just as comfortable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Beef was about to call again when a pair of arms wrapped around his waist and a head peeked around his arm. “What’s up?” Etho looked up at him, his fluffy white hair falling in front of his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you grab the salad and put it on the table? I’m trying to finish this trifle.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Etho hummed in agreement, picking up the bowl with one hand and snatching some blackberries with the other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Etho!” Beef shouted after the cosplayer, frowning. “I need those!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Etho shrugged, smiling with purple teeth. “Not enough to keep them away from me!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The cosplayer dodged Beefs attempt to get the blackberries back, walking out the door with the salad. “Thanks for the berries, babe!”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>cute little beeftho drabble for you guys</p><p>edit: i have been informed that it is actually eeef sooooo</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. team zit has children now</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>in which i give team zit three children</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Impulse didn’t know when they decided to get a kid. It might’ve been when they met Bdubs and Doc’s kids. It might’ve been when Zedaph was working in the pediatric ward. It might’ve been when Impulse was teaching a summer camp. It might’ve been when Tango was helping take care of their friends’ kids.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Either way, they’d entered into the foster system at some point.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Three months later, they’d adopted a six-year-old daughter by the name of Hanna, one who took particular interest in Impulse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Of course, both Tango and Zedaph were jealous. They’d been the two to adamantly state that they wanted to adopt, and now Impulse was getting all the attention?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That wasn’t fair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So they’d taken in more foster kids. This time it was two twin boys, Dominic and Richie. They were three. Hanna was eleven at the time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They adopted them one month later.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So where was the family now?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well, they were neck deep in a game of Sorry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Chaos always sprouted up on family game night. It was inevitable, honestly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’d divided into three separate teams of two. Impulse and Hanna, Tango and Dominic, and Zedaph and Richie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Get those fools, buddy!” Tango was cheering on his teammate as the six-year-old sent Zedaph and Richie’s piece back to start.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You— Tango! How is that fair?” Zedaph spluttered, red in the face. “That’s not fair!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is, in fact, fair. Sorry babe.” Tango shrugged, high-fiving Dominic. “Good job, dude!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>However, between their small little squabbles, the two had failed to notice Hanna and Impulse slowly taking over the game board, now on the verge of winning.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We gotta get’em back,” Zedaph said to Richie, sitting in his lap.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But it’s Hanna and Dad’s turn!” Richie said, pointing at the pair. “We’ve gotta follow the rules!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, we do,” Impulse said, nodding and drawing a card from the pile. “Rules are very important.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean, rules can be institutions of systematic oppression, so I wouldn’t say they’re super important.” Hanna shrugged, leaning back on her hands.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Impulse shot her a look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Am I wrong?”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>now i go write more angst that will end up here eventually</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. bus rides with crazy people</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>in which the hermits are all members of marching band going on their overnight trip</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>6 AM. Lakewood high school band room.</p><p>Gradually, people began to trickle in. It was an early wake up, especially considering the late football game the night before.</p><p>Their team lost, not that anyone was expecting anything else. They'd had an awesome run of their show, though. Everyone was pumped for the competition this weekend, ready to crush the other bands in their class. It probably didn't help that this was their overnight trip. </p><p>They were heading up to Chicago for the 'Bears Marching Invitational.' Driving all day until they were at the city, playing their show for the judges and then going to whatever hotel was willing to host three hundred highschoolers for the night. The day after they were going on a bit of a tourist excursion, then driving back home.</p><p>As fun as it was supposed to be, absolutely no one wanted to be there for the 7 AM call time. Unfortunately, though, TFC had a tendency to call out anyone who wasn't there on time, and no one wanted to be that person.</p><p>So people were arriving at the high school bright and early, bringing along a days worth of clothes and their instruments (if they had them).</p><p>As normal, Xisuma was there far earlier than everyone else. The drum major liked to be on top of things, and evidently part of that was being too on time for events. Derp and Banano were tucked away in a corner cuddling when he walked in. A couple sophomores were also in the room, dozing off or tapping away on their phones.</p><p>Xisuma was sitting up against a wall reading when Doc and Ren showed up. Usually, Ren would've had his tenor with him (and probably would've had Doc carry it, too), but with all of the heavy equipment already packed up on the truck he didn't have it with him. Doc's bass drum was in there too, along with everything else that couldn't fit on a charter bus.</p><p>And thank goodness for that, because otherwise Grian would've hopped onto a marimba and played till someone finally broke and told him to shut the fuck up. Even then, the chances of him actually stopping were pretty slim.</p><p>Xisuma offered the two of them a wave, setting his book to the side. "Good morning, guys!"</p><p>Doc smiled back, unable to wave with a sleepy Ren on his back. Ren just grumbled, shoving his face into Doc's back and wrapping his arms around Doc's neck tighter. "I hate early call times."</p><p>"What he means is, 'good morning to you, too'." Doc leaned over, trying to put Ren on the floor next to Xisuma, but the tired man had his arms wrapped tight around Doc.</p><p>"Nope, you get to stay with me."</p><p>Doc sighed, looking at Xisuma exasperatedly. "I've had to deal with this all damn morning."</p><p>"You love me anyways."</p><p>"Unfortunately." Doc bent over again and this time Ren complied, letting go of the German's neck. He sat on the floor, curling up against Xisuma. "I'll be back in a second, watch him for me." Doc placed a kiss on Ren's hair and walked back out the door, probably going to grab their stuff.</p><p>"Will do," Xisuma called after. Ren nestled up closer into his side, resting his head on his shoulder. "Guess you're stuck with me for a little while, huh?"</p><p>Ren yawned, shrugging. "Guess so." He arched his neck, trying to read the words on the front of Xisuma's book. "So what're you reading?"</p><p>"Anne of Green Gables. My pops gave it to me when I was a kid."</p><p>"Nice. Wake me up when Doc gets back please?"</p><p>"No problem."</p><p>And thus Ren closed his eyes, sighing tiredly before dozing off.</p><p>The two sat peacefully for a moment. Xisuma went back to his book, Ren slept. At one point Doc came back with two small suitcases and a backpack. After setting the luggage down, the German took Ren off of Xisuma's hands. The two of them curled up together. Ren was sitting in Doc's lap, leaning against his chest, and the German seemed content to just sit there, resting his head on Ren's.</p><p>Xisuma kept reading his book as more people filtered in. Bdubs and Keralis went and sat down against a wall, cuddling into one another. A couple of freshman sat over by the timpani, talking tiredly among themselves. Smutler and Biff were chilling by the storage rooms. Friends sat next to friends, chatting and laughing with one another.</p><p>Everything was calm, for the most part.</p><p>"ONWARD, MY STEED!"</p><p>The sleepy air floating around the band room was obliterated by the sound of Zedaph yelling. Soon after came two blondes rushing through the double doors.</p><p>Tango had Zedaph on his back in a piggy back, not unlike Doc had had Ren about 15 minutes before. Impulse came trailing behind, wearing a backpack and wielding coffee from Tim Horton's. He seemed unfazed by his two boyfriends' chaotic energy, opting to wave at Xisuma.</p><p>Xisuma, along with everyone else, was too startled by the surprise entrance to notice. The last thing he had expected was a pair of over-eager teenagers to come rushing into the band room. Though, in all honesty, he probably should have.</p><p>Tango ran around the room, maneuvering around the assorted highschoolers gathered on the floor, before zooming out again, yelling random nonsense.</p><p>Impulse walked over to Xisuma, taking a sip of coffee. "Morning," he said, yawning afterwards.</p><p>"Morning," Xisuma said back, still rattled by the events that had just happened merely seconds prior. "What was that about?"</p><p>Impulse shrugged, taking his backpack off and setting it down with a thump. "I went and got the two of them donuts. Bad idea." He sat down, leaning his head back against the wall. "They also got into my coffee."</p><p>Xisuma nodded, understanding. "This'll be interesting."</p><p>Tango and Zedaph were only slightly hyper on the best of days. Giving them sugar only gave them more energy, and paired with the caffeine they had received, this was going to be a long trip.</p><p>"Hey Impulse," Doc said quietly, trying not to wake up the sleeping man beneath him. "You seen Cub or Scar anywhere?"</p><p>"Don't think so, why?"</p><p>“I wanted to talk with Cub about our engineering project.”</p><p>“The one for Fifarek? It’s like, ninety percent of the final grade for this semester.”</p><p>“Yeah. That’s why I wanted to talk to him about it.”</p><p>"Fair. Well, I haven't, but if I see him around I'll tell you."</p><p>Xisuma turned out the rest of the conversation, opting to read his book. If anything went out of hand, he trusted his friends to let him know.</p><p>The next thing he knew, TFC was up on the stand, yelling at people to quiet down.</p><p>”Alright! Guys!” He stood on the pedestal, sitting in the chair there. “Let’s get this show on the road, huh?”</p><p>Gradually, the group calmed down, giving their band director a chance to talk. “Okay! Overnight trip!” He looked over at the door, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Hey Ninja, Witchy! Welcome to the party!”</p><p>And with that, the trip had officially begun.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>*slaps oneshot* this bad boy can fit so many references in it</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. losing</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>in which i write another au (thanks to momdoubleO for the idea)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Doc still remembered when he and Etho first drifted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d been a cocky new ranger, barely out of the cadet program. Etho was an experienced Jaeger pilot, with more than a few years under his belt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two had seemed unlikely for drift compatibility. They’d only met once or twice, and had striking differences in how they acted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Etho was calm and collected. Doc had heard countless stories about how he was a cold killer, about how he never left a Kaiju standing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Doc was reckless and hot-headed. He had a reputation of punching first and thinking later. He’d almost been kicked out of the cadet program several times.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The only reason he was still here was because he was a natural at piloting a Jaeger.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first time they drifted, Doc gained a new perspective.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The stories involving Etho often included him being a cold hard killer, never leaving a Kaiju standing. Staying emotionless as he took on more of the giant monsters. Wearing a mask to prevent him from talking, just so he could hone his skills beyond.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But when they drifted together, Etho just felt... sad. Tired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Doc had been overwhelmed by Etho’s memories. He’d chased the rabbit into the illusion. The last thing he’d seen before he blacked out was the giant head of a Kaiju crashing through the hull of a Jaeger, taking out the pilot opposite him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’d woken up in a medical bay with Etho sitting next to him. He wasn’t able to speak at the time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But the moment their eyes met, he understood. Understood why Etho was so reserved, why he hardly talked, why he let the rumors flow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because when you lose someone, you don’t want to have to go through that again.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hahahahaha<br/>angst</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. crying in front of the hospital</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>in which i write yet another angst</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“Cub, honey,” Scar whispered, tears beginning to trickle down his face. “I love you, you know that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cub nodded, his cheeks already wet. His hand was entwined with his husbands, resting next to Scar. White light bounced around the room, showing just how pale Scar had gotten. Their wedding felt so long ago, out in Joe’s backyard. Friends all around, simply having a good time while they lived their lives away. Cub still remembered feeling the sun on his face, the breathlessness after seeing Scar walk down that aisle, the happy tears as they shared their vows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’d been a year afterwards that they’d made their first trip to the hospital, to find out that Scar had a mystery illness, an illness that would ultimately lead them here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scar leaned back into the pillows, a sad smile on his face. “Do you remember the song they played at our wedding?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course,” Cub said, his voice hoarse from crying. “You were so adamant that we danced to it, even from the beginning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scar hummed in agreement. “I was, wasn’t I?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two sat in silence, save for the steady beeping of Scar’s heart monitor and the air conditioner droning on in the background.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What day is it? And in what month?” Scar started singing quietly, his voice breathy. “This clock never seemed so alive.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t keep up and I can’t back down, I’ve been losing so much time…” Cub joined in, his voice breaking halfway through. Scar squeezed his hand, making eye contact with his husband. Both of them had tears in their eyes, teetering ever closer to the edge of crying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Cause it’s you, and me, and all of the people, with nothing to do, oh nothing to lose.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cub let the tears stream down his face. Why did this have to happen to them? Scar should’ve had years to live, yet here they were. Crying in a hospital room, both of them knowing that only one would leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And it’s you and me, and all other people.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scar’s heartbeat was slowing, and Cub could hear his voice slowly getting quieter. They both knew what was coming.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh I don’t know why.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He really didn’t know why he’d fallen so hard for Scar, but every moment with him was worth it. Every smile, every kiss, every hug was worth it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t keep my eyes off of…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Scar’s voice gave out halfway through the line, and he closed his eyes, tears streaming down his face and around the oxygen mask.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And that’s when Cub’s heart shattered.</span>
</p><hr/><p>Cub sat on the bench in the rain. Wind pounded on his back. He ignored it, numb to it after sitting there for an hour already.</p><p>
  <span>Honestly, he was numb to everything at this point. His chest felt hollow. The cold should’ve been painful, but it wasn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His face was covered in streaks that could’ve very well been from the rain. Anyone who knew what’d happened before knew otherwise, though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Someone had come to sit by him. A woman with a pink jacket and shorts, a limp flower crown on her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She seemed tired and numb, just like him. Worn.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cub heard her crying and looked up from his lap, eyebrows folded in concern. “You okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The woman looked at him, startled. Her brown hair was a wreck, and her eyes were red and puffy from crying. “I-- what?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cub turned his head forward, looking at her through the corner of his eyes. “Heard you crying, figured you’d want to talk.” He looked at his hands, observing the callouses on them. The woman was silent next to him. “If not it’s fine, I don’t expect you to spill your problems to a str—“</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No— sorry, that’s not— jeez, English is failing me today.” The woman shifted, leaning her head back and looking to the sky. “I wasn’t trying to make it seem like I was rejecting your offer.” Her hands fiddled in her lap, and she seemed fidgety. “I just… I guess I’m in shock? Maybe?” She shook her head, hunching over and mimicking Cub’s position. “My wife… she just—“ Cub heard her sniffle and looked over to see her crying.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into his chest, rubbing her back. To his surprise, she hugged back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two sat like that, for a while. Embracing one another in the rain, providing comfort.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry—“ the woman started to say, and Cub hushed her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t have to say anything.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>wHoOpS my fingers slipped</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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